Completely Unexpected
by The Grand Dutchess
Summary: An heiress with a motive, a brooding duke, an arranged marriage, a wacky family and a whole lot of trouble. Join in the fun set in regency England as everybody drinks tea and eats biscuits. After all, a lot of events in our lives are completely unexpected
1. THE MAGNIFICENT PROLOGUE

THE COMPLETELY DESTINED BUT UNEXPECTED TALE OF YOU AND ME

PROLOGUE

_March, 1824_

"Will you stop pulling my hair? By the time you're done I would have nothing but my scalp left!" Rhonda Wellington Lloyd yelled at her petite maid trying to tame her wild black curls that have grown way past her mid-back. It shone beautifully under sunlight and plenty of young, lovesick men have written sonnets about it praising the beauty of its brilliance and colour. Rhonda did not care. So what if her striking hair has caught the attention of the eligible bachelors of the ton? It matters not to her, what matters to her is that her hair has grown far too long and it needs to be cut immediately. It may give her mother and the young men heart palpitations but she could not care less. Her hair is extremely distracting and just gets in the way. If her mother would just let her near a pair of scissors she would cut her hair at chin length.

However, her mother was a smart woman and was aware of her daughter's desire to butcher her gorgeous locks and she prevented anyone from cutting it, to the point where scissors are almost banned from their palatial home.

Rhonda winced as Giselle tugged at her hair again. "Be careful!" she yelped as Giselle stuck another painful pin into her mass of curls which were halfway to being stylishly piled atop her head.

"I'm sorry ma'am but you're mother have said that you have to be looking your best when he sees you. Of course, she told me specifically to style it like the night when all of them rich, young lads were clamouring after you during the Summerton's ball. Your hair definitely caused a riot madam," the maid babbled and Rhonda gave her a haughty stare through the big mirror with a gold border attached to an oak dressing-table. Rhonda glared at her reflection and pouted.

Sure, she was beautiful, everybody says so as they praise her in hopes of getting her hand in marriage even when they all know that she is an engaged woman. Still, she did not like what she saw. Her beautiful face with her wide, brown innocent eyes, creamy complexion and full, pouty lips did not make her proud, it made her feel quite useless. Just another pretty face, a common lady of the ton to be married off to some duke whom she cannot even remember the name.

"I do not know why everybody is so anxious about his arrival. It's not like he is God or anyone that important," Rhonda complained as she sensed her maid freeze. Through the mirror, Rhonda could see the wide-eyed Giselle, her mouth hanging in shock as if Rhonda had just mentioned something unmentionable.

"Oh, relax Giselle! It is not you who badmouthed him, it's me. And I have every right to be since I'm forced to marry him," Rhonda reassured Giselle. "Bloody bastard's going to get what's coming to him. Who does he think he is? Taking my freedom before I have even gotten it. The nerve!"

Giselle nodded quietly, too scared to utter a word. She did not like it when the mistress was in a bad mood. Miss Rhonda clearly has a temper, Giselle did not want to provoke her.

"Th-there, ma'am. I-it's d-d-done," Giselle stammered as she brushed the rest of Rhonda's curls and inspected the final product. The mistress looked absolutely breath-taking with half of her hair twisted to the sides and ended in a bun. A few strands of her hair framed her face adding softness to the look. Rhonda was ready, Giselle thought.

Rhonda observed herself. She really would have looked better with her hair cut short but she has to make do for now. After all, hair should be the least of her concern. She is getting married. Not only that, the man is a complete stranger. Even though her mother insists that they have met before when they were children, she did not know a single thing about her fiancé except for the fact that he is extremely eccentric. And that piece of information was just from the unreliable lips of the members of the ton.

It is inconsequential anyway. Even if she did know her fiancé, it would not quell the feeling of anger raging inside her for life being so decidedly unfair. She loathed her parents for this. Threatening to cut her inheritance off if she does not marry… what was his name again? She simply could not remember. It was puzzling. Rhonda has always been good at remembering names but she just cannot remember his.

"Ma'am, would you like to be putting on your shoes now and your ribbons?" she heard Giselle ask, interrupting her thoughts. Rhonda nodded and sighed. What would her fiancé be like? Would he like her? More importantly, would she like him?

Sadly, Rhonda realised that her dream off falling in love and marrying the man she falls in love with is never coming true if she marries a man that she knows nothing of. The thought made her want to weep… but the thought of losing her inheritance quickly brought her back to her senses. How was she supposed to survive without money? It is simply not possible.

Rhonda stood up from her plush chair and announced loudly, even though it was only Giselle that was in her boudoir, "Today, I will have to sacrifice all that I have. I am forced into this circumstance and I will take every opportunity thrown my way and use it to my advantage. I will work hard so that I do not fail myself and my upcoming marriage. With your guidance, I seek to be the very best of what I can be. That is all."

With a raised chin and a determined expression, Rhonda marched out of the room without bothering to wear her shoes. Giselle was in the corner, stunned, she was fighting the strongest urge to clap her hands.


	2. THE MEETING

CHAPTER ONE

THE MEETING

The myriad of flowers have been immaculately arranged, the pristine napkins folded neatly waiting at the tables, the colourful curtains have been changed to set the mood and the food have been cooked to absolute perfection. Not to mention, everyone was present, mingling about, drinking delicious champagne and were practicing their art of conversation. There was only one thing missing: The Duke.

"Do you not think it absolutely strange that the duke is an hour late for his own engagement party?" asked Lucinda James in her high pitch, nasal voice that irritated most of the ton. She was talking to Lord Bentley, a gentleman of forty who was enduring her rather annoying tone in hopes that he will have her hand in marriage. However blood curdling Lucinda's voice was, she was certainly one of the prettiest flowers that have bloomed in societal London.

"I do not think it strange at all, dear. The duke has been known to be rather eccentric and it would not be the first time he has shied away from such gatherings so do not worry your pretty little head over that," the lord commented, flashing what he thought was a debonair grin which made Lucinda cringe. The things she had endured to move up the social ladder, her dear mama would be oh-so proud of her.

He kissed her gloved hand and Lucinda had to hide her disdain behind a mask of pure and utter enjoyment. She stifled the great urge to run away from the horrid-looking lord with bad teeth and a pompous attitude but was not able to do so as doing so would have been suicide. Literally, suicide. She would be starving in the streets if this man does not offer marriage, soon. Oh, the things a girl has to do just to live. It is man's world after all.

And across the room, with all pairs of eyes curiously on her, nobody thought that more than Rhonda Lloyd, as for the hundredth time she cursed the bloody Duke of Eversworth to hell for being so un-fashionably late. To Rhonda, there was late and then there was late and the blasted duke certainly is the latter. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, Viscountess of Ippsshire, does not wait for anyone. No exceptions. Even fiancés who are rumoured to be devilishly handsome. What good will his dashing looks be when Rhonda is stuck in the palace in Eversworth just waiting for herself to mould in boredom? Will his talked about heart-melting smile amuse her? Or his constantly fantasised dark eyes?

Certainly not.

And right then and there, Rhonda Lloyd has had enough. She heard the buzz of people's conversation, all of them nosily waiting if he will make an appearance and Rhonda bets that if he did not, what joy they will have for they will have more things to gossip about to fill their meaningless empty lives. However, she could not blame them for being interested, after all, she is a very interesting person who hypocritically loves a good gossip. Not about herself of course, but if it is about someone else, rest assured that Rhonda Lloyd is the first one to hear it. Let us just say she knows everything about everyone and it has worked well to her advantage many times before.

"I'm really glad you are just sulking in one corner when this ball is supposedly your engagement party," someone behind her commented drily. For the first time in the evening, Rhonda smiled. In addition, she turned and maniacally hugged her dear friend.

"Oh, Helga! I'm so glad you could come! I was so bored out of my wits. I really did not know what to do. In desperation, I had an idea to jump on the dining table, grab a bottle of scotch, drink it for courage and dance myself silly hoping the guests will be driven away by my odd-looking tribal dancing!" Rhonda exclaimed, clasping her friend's hand tightly.

"Well, we certainly don't want that to happen," Helga chuckled as she looked across the room to view a tall man with blonde hair and green eyes, "And it is Marchioness Helga to you now."

Rhonda rolled her eyes and playfully pouted, "Ever since you married him you've changed. You're not as fun as you used to be. To me, you will always be Helga."

"I have changed. I'm a married woman. And I am very glad I am," Helga declared with an almost deluded grin that the blonde man across the room returned. Upon seeing this, Rhonda snorted and shuddered.

"Your husband may be handsome and rich and powerful. Oh, and have I already mentioned handsome?" Rhonda jested while Helga gave her a glare she shrugged off.

"You do know you talking about MY husband," Helga chuckled and hit her playfully.

"Ow!" she winced and responded, "But the best quality I like about him is his ability to make you so ridiculously happy by just existing," Rhonda admitted as she heard Helga sigh again.

"You've never been more right," Helga admitted.

Rhonda grinned. The Marquess of… What was he a Marquess of again? Well, Arnold, ever since he came to Helga's life he had made Helga's company more than bearable. She positively glowed. And when they got married, it was like she was constantly giving out rays of sunshine. Sometimes Rhonda would wish that she had that kind of radiance just because someone was there for her. Someone who loved her. She shook her head. It was not suitable to think of such thoughts when she had to mentally prepare herself before she meets her fiancé.

All of a sudden, the crowd murmured and Helga inhaled a sharp intake of air. "He's here," she harshly whispered.

"Who?" Rhonda asked, scanning the room. What was with all the brouhaha?

"Your fiancé" came Helga's grave reply.

Rhonda swore that her heart just dropped to her stomach. Her mouth suddenly felt extremely dry. She swallowed painfully. He's here.

"He's here?" she voiced out her thought. Helga nodded in confirmation.

Then the crowd parted just like the Red Sea when Moses stood in front of it. Only it's not Moses who is here now but the duke. Rhonda would have handled it better if Moses was the one present, she was sure of it.

"Don't look behind," Helga murmured. Rhonda followed.

"Is he coming?" Rhonda asked in a whisper. She felt Helga squeezed her hand more tightly. Then a deep masculine voice coming from behind greeted her.

"Good evening, Lady Rhonda."

Rhonda heard Helga groan and from the corner of her eye saw her mother rushing towards her but was constantly blocked by hordes of people saying their best wishes.

Finally, we meet, Rhonda thought.

Making sure she pasted a wide smile on her face before she turned, Rhonda faced her fiancé expecting the worst. As her eyes landed on him, she felt surprise dawn on her that made jaw slack and her eyes widen. He was extremely dazzling.

Dark eyes that instantly lit a fire in Rhonda that she did not even know could be ignited. His nose was straight, his skin clear and even, almost perfect except for the scar on his left eyebrow and his lips… They seemed to be made for kissing.

He looked like an angel.

Rhonda regained her composure while Helga cleared her throat.

"Lady Helga, it is so nice to meet you again," he said to Helga, smiling. Rhonda noticed his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. So what? She rolled her eyes as he took Helga's gloved hand and kissed it. Satisfaction only filled her when she saw Arnold heading their way. He certainly must have seen the exchange.

"Good evening, Duke," Arnold said through gritted teeth as he slapped the Duke on the back a little too hard for it to be friendly. He then pulled Helga to his side.

Rhonda almost laughed when the Duke replied that it really was a good evening before throwing Helga a flirtatious smile and a wink.

Arnold's hands formed into fists.

Helga looked extremely cornered.

Rhonda snorted in the most unladylike fashion.

And the Duke just looked happy to be there.

Antlers were clashing, that was obvious. Rhonda decided to get rid of the tension.

"I am so pleased to finally meet you, your grace. So nice of you to finally grace us with your glorious presence. After all, we know how extremely busy you are, with your duties and all," Rhonda droned, her tone laced with so much sarcasm Helga bit her lips to keep herself from laughing. Arnold calmed down as the Duke's attention was not on Helga anymore.

Rhonda looked at the Duke, his eyes were wide and his brows almost touched his hairline in surprise. He probably he have never been spoken to in such a manner. Surely he must be fuming but instead of an angry outburst, the Duke did something which Rhonda didn't expect, he laughed. Loudly. Uncontrollably. And when he had recovered from all the guffawing, he let out in awe, "You're still the same Rhonda Lloyd I remembered."

The same Rhonda I remembered? They have only met once when they were children her mother assured her and for the last time meeting him hadn't been memorable. However, looking at him now, he doesn't have a face that's easily forgettable. Have they really met before?

"You must have had me confused with someone else," she muttered.

"I don't think I'll mistake my fiancée for someone else, milady," he said seriously.

Helga and Arnold looked at each other, it was time to leave. The two needed to get acquainted. It's been so many years and they have promised the Duke that they would not say anything. Rhonda will find out in due time.

"Lady Lloyd, Duke Eversworth, it was so nice to see you but we must mingle," Arnold cautiously said, hoping that the Duke got the hint. The duke nodded and Arnold, along with Helga who waved at Rhonda, disappeared inside the sea of people. They were left alone.

"My mother says we've met before but I don't remember it and you do. When did we meet?" she inquired. It was all suspicious really. How could she not remember if she had met him before?

"Your mother is correct, and speaking of your mother, she is heading this way."

He was right. She was heading their way. Her mother's timing was just horrible. It infuriated Rhonda.

"Hello! It has been years since your last visit, hasn't it? How was your journey? I hope that all the messy business back at the Eversworth estate is all sorted out," her mother clucked, clutching the Duke's hands tightly.

The Duke appeared truly happy as he gave Lady Lloyd a peck on each cheek. Rhonda was again puzzled. The duke and her mother are close? Since when? And how did her mother knew about things that happened in Eversworth? Did they write to each other? A lot of things did not make sense.

"Everything has been well," the Duke assured the older woman and gave Rhonda a look. Rhonda stiffened, what did that meant? She was too confused right now.

The arrival of the Duke has answered some questions but it also gave rise to new ones. Rhonda pursed her lips, for the first time in her life, she was unsure of what to do.


	3. GETTING TO KNOW YOU

CHAPTER TWO

GETTING TO KNOW YOU

Conversation between her fiancé and her mother seemed to go on forever. They seemed so chummy, like they are so close. As if her mother is his bloody aunt or some close relative. Wait, is he a close relative? Eww, she doesn't want marry a cousin, that would be… wrong? But she can't help but wonder… he has dark hair like the Lloyds and the Wellingtons but the aura, the aura is absolutely different. Too different. They cannot be related. They can't be.

Rhonda needed to get herself a drink. She didn't care what drink, preferably something strong. To escape this madness. The heat had made her so parched.

She wasn't paying attention to their conversation anymore but just as Rhonda was about to get something to drink, the Duke finished talking to her mother and turned to her with that blinding smile. The one that showcased his perfect, white teeth.

Rhonda squinted. It's too bright. It is definitely illegal for someone to be so blindingly handsome.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked in that deep voice that travelled through the evening breeze like melted butter on toast. Rhonda cursed the blasted shiver that went up her spine. Look at him with his confident grin that's adorably higher on the left side, he thinks he is all that and more, Rhonda thought spitefully. She's afraid she's going to have to deal with his massive ego once they're married.

Oh, bother.

But then again, he was offering his hand. A very gentlemanly thing to do. Rhonda kept thinking why he'd been named by the ton as the eccentric Duke. He seems to be very normal.

And he certainly hasn't done anything out of the ordinary. Yet. After all, it's only nine thirty.

The Duke gazed at her expecting an answer while her mother fanned herself and pursed her lips, also waiting for her to reply.

"Uh… no, not really. I don't really want to dance," Rhonda replied curtly but as soon as the words left her lips she felt a stinging sensation on her right hand, the one she was hiding behind her back. She almost yelped.

Her mother had pinched her! She turned to her mother in shock while her mother found the ceiling immediately interesting.

With tears threatening to fall from her eyes, Rhonda bit her lip to keep herself from screaming out in pain. The Duke looked at her oddly with the damned smile never leaving his face, for a moment he looked surprised but then he regained his composure. He didn't even appear offended by the rejection, Rhonda thought. This man does not really care about this would be marriage at all.

Great, now they had something in common.

"Oh, I'll just ask Ms James then," he stated aloofly. Rhonda sensed her mother stiffen and felt great discomfort when her mother pinched her again. This time she could not help it.

"Would you stop it?" Rhonda shrieked. A few heads turned their way.

"Asking Ms James for a dance?" the Duke asked, amused, thinking that the question was meant for him. He winked at Rhonda.

"No, no! Not you!" Rhonda huffed and glared at her mother. Mrs Lloyd shrugged. This only infuriated Rhonda even more.

"Oh, who were you talking to?" the Duke appeared truly curious to know. He had an expectant look in his eyes that Rhonda found very familiar. She shook her head. She might have had too much punch, it was probably her imagination but for a second she thought…

"A voice. Inside my head. I was talking to it because it was being very very naughty..."

Mrs Lloyd rolled her eyes, out of all the excuses to come up with. Only Rhonda could truly come up with such insane stupidity. To her great surprise, the Duke reacted much differently than Mrs Lloyd thought he would.

"A voice. There's a voice. Inside your head?" the Duke repeated seriously. Then, out of the blue, he burst in huge laughter that shook his whole body. He finally stopped only after the point when tears were coming out of his eyes.

He gave her a smug smirk. "Miss, if you did not want me to dance with Ms James because I'm your fiancé and you would just be utterly heartbroken if you saw your fiancé dancing with another woman, I understand. Completely. And that is all you had to say. You did not have to make up a story about a voice in your head."

To make matters worse, he gave her another wink.

"I did not make that story up! You know what? Nevermind! Go and dance with Lucinda James, frankly, I do not really care," she said to the Duke. "And mother, next time, pinch someone else!" Rhonda yelled before exiting the room and slamming the wooden doors behind her.

The ton's widened eyes were all on her. Numerous gasps were heard. Her mother dropped her glass of wine on the floor in shock. She did not even react even when she felt the hem of her dress wet, splashed with wine.

Lucinda James grinned in a conceited manner.

Ella Hendricks, the biggest gossip of the ton, shivered in excitement for getting new gossip.

And soon, the members of the ton started running their mouths a kilometre per second.

But the Duke… he had the biggest smile on his face.

"Well… that went well," he said happily to no one. Rhonda's mother, who was beside him, looked at the Duke strangely.

The Duke smiled. The years had only made Rhonda more interesting and appealing to his eyes.

...

Rhonda paced the balcony. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Faster with each turn and a step more forceful than the other until she was just stomping on the floor in fury. The whole incident playing over and over again every time she closed her eyes.

"Argh!" she screamed into the night. An owl flew away in a distance. Probably fearful for its safety.

"That's quite a set of pipes you've got there," a deep voice interrupted her tantrum. Rhonda turned around slowly and was not really that surprised to him there. Actually it's quite the opposite, she never expected the Duke to magically appear in her balcony and of course she just had to scream in shock.

"Ahhhhhh!" Rhonda clutched her chest and let her lungs do the work.

"That only proves my point," he drawled. He was leaning against a post. The shadows gave his features a mysterious appeal that Rhonda's womanly instinct was quick to respond to. Rhonda growled in frustration. Mostly because she knew she was cornered and a guilty party.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "I thought you were dancing with Lucinda."

"I was. Not anymore. So I came here."

"Not to appear rude but, get out of my room!"

"Oh? This is your room?" The Duke made a show of looking around. "I had no idea."

"I believe our first meeting did not go as planned. I think your mother is very upset with you so beware," he cautioned as he took a step closer to Rhonda, his face not hidden in the shadows anymore but was illuminated by the silvery moon instead. Gorgeous, that's what women must have called him. Rhonda breathed in, all at once she felt extremely giddy as if someone had taken all the air from the room.

Oh, how silly of her, she wasn't inside a room. She was in a balcony. With a man. You know, the one she's going to marry. Lurking in her bedroom's balcony. They have no chaperone.

Uh oh. And just to think, this magnificent specimen, yes she can admit the man looks like Adonis, is going to be hers soon.

It gave her quire a thrill. At the same time she thought of what being married to him would be like. Would it be really that bad?

"Listen, that's my problem if my mother's angry with me. Not yours. And also, you have to leave now."

"I don't think so."

"You will leave."

"No."

"Yes! Go! Now!"

"You can't make me leave," the Duke declared, standing his ground.

Rhonda threw her hands in the air in irritation, "Oh! Why can't you just…just-"

"Just what?" the Duke asked as he quickly brought his face closer to Rhonda. His breath was tickling her face and his eyes, his dark eyes was so focused on her, only her that she for a moment it seemed that they were the only two people in the world.

Then, she felt the softness of his lips against her before it occurred to her that he was kissing her.

He tasted like mint. She adored it.

But…He was kissing her! And she wasn't doing anything to stop it. She was just there, unmoving, as he cupped her bottom, used his tongue to stroke her tongue and moaned. It was a raw, passionate moan that shook Rhonda's body and made ripples of heat and electricity travel through her whole being. She felt so alive. As if good, cleansing fire was licking every single inch of her body.

Rhonda finally surrendered and closed her eyes to savour the contact. It was delicious. A moment she'll remember forever. A moment she was going to regret. In one, two…

She pushed the Duke away with her hands on his chest. "What in hell was that?"

"That was a kiss. If there are other things that you do not know, like making love, I can show you how it goes and we cou-"

"That's not what I meant! I meant why did you kiss me?"

"Because I want to," the Duke shrugged. "The reason's not really important. It's the fact that it happened that's important."

"You can't just kiss me anytime you want." Rhonda crossed her arms, staring her fiancé down.

He was expectedly unaffected. The Duke widely grinned. "Why not? You're my fiancée. My bride." The Duke's face lit up in realisation. "Was that your first kiss? A little shy, are we?"

A blush reddened Rhonda's face. "No. You're not my first kiss."

"Who is?" the Duke asked, sounding jealous.

Rhonda smiled. "You're not jealous, are you? That would be hilarious, we just met!"

"I'm not jealous. Don't flatter yourself, merely curious." The Duke was frowning, the first time that whole evening. It pleased Rhonda that he was not eternally smiling, that he was human and had emotions like everybody else. Not the bloody cheerful façade he's been showing everyone ever since he's made an appearance.

"Fine. If you must know, my first kiss was from a childhood friend. We were just children. Nine to be exact. And it happened."

"What happened?" he inquired, quite boyishly that it made Rhonda smile. She leaned on the balcony and he jumped up to sit on it. She raised her brows but made no comment. If he falls, it's due to his own stupidity.

She was almost tempted to push him for being stubborn about earlier, when he flat out refused to leave her room. Almost.

"Oh, you know, we were playing by the lake. Chasing each other around until we were so exhausted that we just lay on the grass beside the lake. While were laying down, I closed my eyes because the sun was too bright but even behind my lids the sunlight bothered me. Imagine my surprise when all of the sudden the sun seemed to disappear. I opened my eyes and there he was, his face hovering above mine. Eventually, after staring at me for a while, he kissed me."

Rhonda did not notice herself smiling at the fond memory, she looked at the Duke, he was checking his fingernails in sheer boredom.

"Is that the end of the story?"

"Y-No. I should tell you the part with the feelings that will really make you feel bored," Rhonda chuckled while the Duke kept a straight face.

"Humour yourself," he drawled.

Rhonda continued, "It was the most perfect first kiss. It left me feeling like I could do anything, at least for a nine year old me that meant I felt like I could climb the highest tree in the estate without trouble. The proverbial butterflies were not enough to describe what was in my stomach. It was not just the kiss, it was the boy. He was perfect. Funny. Adventurous. Caring. Compassionate. Adora-"

"I understand. He's the swellest boy in the whole world," the Duke deadpanned.

Rhonda puffed her cheeks up in annoyance and rolled her eyes then her eyes became sad as she remembered something.

"I liked that boy," she whispered melancholily, not seeing the flicker of emotion that flashed on the Duke's face. "And that kiss."

As if she never uttered the sentence, she looked up and beamed at the Duke, the smile seemed forced, "That's the end of the story. Contented?"

"No, far from it actually," he thought, not saying the words aloud in fear of her finding out too soon.

"We better get back and I have to apologise for the scene I've caused and blame it on too much punch," she said, breaking him away from his thoughts.

"Yeah," he whispered and followed Rhonda out of the dark room, placing his hand on a small part of her back

...

"Where were you?" Rhonda's mother suspiciously asked the couple after they made the appearance. The horde of people in the party was pretending not to stare or eavesdrop. Again. Rhonda sighed, She's quite tired of all this but she had to lie to be left alone.

Also, she needed a solid excuse for her misbehaviour so that her mother would not want her head on a platter.

However, before she could say anything the Duke responded, "I found her in the gardens, crying her eyes out. I coaxed her into coming inside. It really is cold out there and the cold is very unsuitable for ladies wearing such dresses." The Duke stared at Rhonda's chest and she fought the massive urge to whack his head. In his most convincing tone he continued loudly so that all could hear, "I'm sure everyone understands the pressure my fiancé has to deal with all the time. Even more so now, as our wedding day looms nearer. It's only understandable that she had such an outburst. My poor darling…"

He stroked her face for effect. Rhonda, again, wanted to maim him but instead gave him a sickeningly sweet smile in return. They were trying to sell the story. And it was amazing how the ton nodded in understanding and some even muttered how sweet it was for the Duke to be so concerned over his fiancée. They were lapping the story up, Rhonda thought in relief.

Idiots. Did they even consider the fact that the Duke and I have only met for the first time a mere hour ago?

That was why she never associated much with these people.

"Would you like to dance now?" the Duke whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her ear. There was a certain urgency in his tone so she quickly took his hand and led him to the dance floor as the Blue Danube played.

The Duke grinned as he placed a hand on her waist and took her right hand. They sway amidst other couples waltzing and soon Rhonda could feel the eyes of many on her back. She squeezed her eyes shut as she wished she could just melt into a puddle in the floor. Dancing was not her forte.

"Just drag me along the dance floor and make it seem like I know how to dance," she hissed softly, "You better tell me quickly what you wanted to tell me."

"You don't know how to dance?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes, I don't know how to dance! What was it that you wanted to tell me that you had to whisper urgently that you wanted to dance with me?"

She stepped on his foot but Rhonda doubted whether he felt it through his thick leather boots.

Rhonda caught an amused gleam in his dark eyes as she struggled with her footing. Damn left feet. They always caused her embarrassment and trouble.

"I wanted you to know that you owe me," the Duke replied, the gleam in his eyes remained.

"Owe you? What do I owe you?"

"For covering up for your silly, but very amusing, outburst just now," he said, quickly turning to avoid another couple.

Rhonda scowled, "I do not owe you anything. I could have apologised to everybody and cover that incident with a very believable excuse myself. You spoke before I could say anything."

"True," was all he said and Rhonda wanted nothing but to tear her hair out of her scalp in irritation and confusion. He was the most peculiar man. The conversation they have had has got to be Rhonda's most interesting yet strangest conversation with someone.

She could see why he could be labelled eccentric. He was perplexing. So damn cryptic.

"So what do you want in return," Rhonda snapped as she sensed the dance coming to a finish.

The music stopped, the Duke bowed and then whispered to Rhonda, with his breath hot on her ear, "I'll tell you as soon as I figure out what I want."

He turned and walked away leaving Rhonda shivering in the middle of the dance floor.

Rhonda said goodbye, to Helga, to Arnold, to all the other guests and finally to the Duke… who was suddenly distant by the end of the party, shrugging as she walked over to him and told him to have a good night. She bade them farewell and a safe journey home.

He was the last to leave.

Then their eyes met before he entered his own carriage bearing his family crest. So achingly familiar his eyes were. Like she's seen them before in a different time.

And then the moment ended, but she still felt those eyes watching her as the carriage rode away into the dark of the night, until nothing separated it from the blackness.

She blinked, to convince herself that the carriage was gone. She headed for her room, was dressed in a nightgown by her maids, was tucked into bed and was left to toss and turn as she hovered over consciousness and dreaming. The dreams, they came back. They weren't really dreams. They were memories, moments of regret.

_"You're leaving?" she asked like she couldn't believe it._

_"I have to," he said sadly, unwilling to look her in the eye._

_"But you can't go!" she yelled, tears were almost falling onto her cheeks. She hugged him on instinct, as if sheer force or will could not make him leave. She had to at least try._

_They were special. Nobody finds their soul mate at age ten._

_She clutched him tight, never wanting to let go. Because she knew that if she did, she'll never get to hold him again._

_"I have to, love. However, I promise I'll come back. And when I do, I swear, nothing will ever stop us from being together. Nothing," he murmured in a comforting and determined tone as he stroked her hair for the last time._

_She cried onto his shirt._

_"You will write, yeah?" she asked hopefully._

_He shook his head. She felt her heart break._

_"No, you don't understand, I'm not allowed to… but remember my promise, Rhonda, remember…"_

"I will! I will!" Rhonda screamed, her eyes opening wide awake as she took in what happened.

"You will what, miss?" her maid, Giselle asked. She was staring at Rhonda in an odd manner that Rhonda did not appreciate. She flushed at the thought of her maid possibly knowing part of a private memory.

The maid noticed the colour on Rhonda's cheeks and the dark shadows under her eyes. The mistress had not slept well. Giselle wisely kept quiet about the mistress' appearance and focused on delivering the news.

"There is a package for you ma'am. Packages, actually. All from a shop called Harrods."

"Wai- what?" Rhonda groaned and stretched, puzzled as to who may be sending her expensive merchandise.

"They are from the Duke."

Oh, that made sense.

"I don't want them," Rhonda declared as she got out of bed and put on her slippers, reaching for the cup of warm tea set on a table near her bed.

"But ma'am, you haven't even seen them!" Giselle protested. Rhonda gave her a look, she shut her trap.

"Send them back," she ordered before taking a sip of her tea.

"I ca-can't, ma'am. That does not, I, do not have the power to do that," Giselle stammered and then cursed herself. If there's one thing ma'am absolutely hates, it is stammering so it was strange when she did not noticed Giselle's stammering right then.

Something was bothering the mistress.

"You can have the clothes then," Rhonda said nonchalantly, putting her tea down on the cosy.

Giselle's eyes widened in shock, "Oh no! I can't have that, ma'am! It was meant for you."

Rhonda scoffed, "If it was for me then I could give them to whomever I please." Her tone softened, "And you definitely deserve it."

"I am very pleased and touched ma'am but I'm afraid I can't accept. The Duke will definitely not like seeing his gifts for you worn by me. Why don't you look at them first?"

Rhonda frowned. It was because if she did, she knew she will accept the gifts wholeheartedly and wear them just to showcase to the world that the Duke, the bastard, gave her such gifts.

Rhonda was vulnerable to great dresses. And dresses from Harrods are sure to be great.

"Fine. Alright. Your voice is already getting annoying. Where are the dresses anyway?" Rhonda grumbled as Giselle's eyes lit up.

"They're in the Blue room," Giselle immediately replied.

"Urgh," Rhonda groaned as she marched to the Blue room, the opposite side of her bedroom, where there was a dangerously high pile of boxes with the label Harrods put atop the Blue loveseat.

"Whoa," Rhonda breathed, taking in the tall stack of boxes. Giselle nodded.

"Get one and open it, if I don't like it you can have all of the dresses. If I do like it…" Rhonda stalled, "We'll open all of this and decided what I am going to give you."

"But ma-"

"No buts. Take one and open it."

Giselle reached out for a box in the middle of the pile with a tentative and careful hand. Giselle look up to see Rhonda's expression, Rhonda stared at Giselle.

In heated rush, the girls of the same age dropped to the floor and opened the box with shaking hands of excitement. They shared the same passion for good clothing. The only difference was Rhonda could afford it, Giselle could not.

Rhonda's eyes bulged out as Giselle lifted the cover of the box and revealed a gorgeous deep green evening gown that was modestly cut but still very feminine. It was adorned with glittering jewels near the neckline and had a ribbon tied in the middle. She bit her bottom lip.

Rhonda liked the dress. She liked it very much, she was afraid to admit.

"You like it," Giselle whispered.

"I do," Rhonda admitted angrily, "But he is mad if he thinks he can bribe me with gifts!"

One of Giselle's blonde eyebrows rose. Rhonda sighed.

"Yes, I know…"

"Miss, would you like to open the others too?" Giselle asked, unable to keep the excitement from appearing in her tone.

Rhonda muttered resignedly, "Go on."

They opened all fifteen boxes, all contained wonderful dressed that Rhonda could imagine herself wearing. She hated him more and more, him and his good taste in women's clothing. How many women has he shopped for to gain such experience?

Oh no, was that jealousy?

NO… Of course not, that was silly. She met the Duke only yesterday, she hasn't even known him for a full day. How absurd. She is going mad. Bonkers. She barely knew the man.

And yet…

"You could keep the pastel dress and the one with too much pearls on it, the pale yellow one," Rhonda decided to give the colours that made her appear washed out to Giselle.

Giselle could not be happier by getting such a gift but gushed that she could not accept it. Rhonda only finally convinced her to keep the dresses when threated to be fired from her job if she didn't. That kept Giselle's mouth firmly shut and tightened her hold on the two dresses.

Out of the blue (pardon the non-intentional pun), Rhonda's mother came in the room.

"I see you've seen the dresses. Are they to your liking? The Duke personally picked them out for you, so I've been told," her mother said, coming inside the room even though Rhonda had not invited her in. Well, she doesn't need invitation actually. She owns the house. And Rhonda just loathes that fact more and more.

"We need to have a talk. Would you excuse us, Giselle?" Brooke smile at the maid but noticed she was carrying some dresses out. "Where are you going with that?"

"I gave it to her," Rhonda grounded out, giving Giselle a look that the maid understood as she scurried out of the room. It was mother and daughter bonding time. How wonderful. Just what Rhonda needed, that and a big wad of cotton to stuff into her ears so that she doesn't have to listen to what must be a ridiculous talk.

"So, our talk."

"Yes, what about it," Rhonda motioned her mother to continue as she glared at her petulant child.

"You're getting married soon."

_Thank you for pointing out the obvious, mother._

"And I just felt the need to discuss something important with you."

"What about?"

"Matters of the bedroom," her mother said casually.

"WHAT?" Rhonda gasped, unable to believe what she just heard.

"Now, child, do not be immature and listen to your mother."

"Wh- How, huh? Why? Why are we discussing this?" Rhonda asked , trying to really prevent herself from blushing.

"Because it is…"

At that point, Rhonda decided to tune her mother out and sat on her fingers to prevent herself from putting her hands to her ears and screaming 'LA LA LA LA LA!' at the top of her lungs.

Awkward. There was only one word for it. Rhonda already knew of the union between a man and a woman through those bloody, horrible but incredibly addictive romance novels that Helga had forced her to read and she definitely did not need to hear such embarrassing things coming from her mother. The woman who gave birth to her. The woman who did something with her father so that Rhonda could appear into this world. The same deed that the woman is blabbering on about right at that moment.

She needed to distract her mother.

"Make sure that it is standing up wh-"

"Mother. Mother!"

"What?"

Rhonda cleared her throat, "Any progress with the wedding plans?"

"Yes," her mother replied, wide-eyed. The distraction worked. "A date has been set."

"For what?" Rhonda asked dumbly.

Her mother stared at her like she was a blithering idiot, which she probably was. "The date for the wedding."

"Oh" was all that Rhonda could give out. She wished that her distraction had not worked. A date for the wedding. Of course… her wedding. With the Duke. That she just met.

Funny. Rhonda thought meeting him would be boring but he has proven to be a very interesting person indeed. An interesting enough person to marry? She wasn't sure. In fact, she hardly knew the man.

So as her mother continued about erections and such, Rhonda wondered if the Duke and her would have a successful wedding, a successful marriage and a successful legacy to pass on.


End file.
